I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
by AndyXmas
Summary: Ymir is stuck playing Santa again on Christmas Eve while the kids are asleep. - Takes place in the same world as the anime/manga, years into the future, but can be interpreted differently.


**A/N: I felt something needed to be written for the holiday season. I don't see Historia and Ymir celebrating any of the other holidays during this season other than Christmas. Could take place modern day, could take place in SNK verse, either or. Same thing goes with Ymir - while I headcanon her as intersex, she doesn't have to be and they could have adopted kids or had magical lesbian babies or something. I don't know, that's all up to you.**

**Regardless, I wanted Ymir and Historia during the holidays and... well, this happened.**

**Hope you enjoy it. Happy holidays!**

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><p>Historia always insisted on the weirdest things: celebrating first and half birthdays, and having Ymir dress up as Santa Claus when putting out the presents for the kids.<p>

In the brunette's mind, both were silly and downright ridiculous. The birthday thing was probably worse, though, if she had to pick.

A first birthday for any child was simply for the mother to celebrate and there was no way the kid would recall any of that. Besides, half the time any cake that was brought out would get smashed or a giant hand/face print in it. The same went for half-birthdays, with even more oblivious, and how they were just more pointless the older one got.

For the Santa thing, though…

"Shit!" Ymir hissed through clenched teeth as managed to stub her toe against the table. Not that it was anything new, but she was supposed to be stealthy and doing such was difficult when carrying a number of packages. It was what she deserved, she supposed, for trying to do this in two trips rather than three or four. Maybe it would have been better if Historia let her just wear her boots in the house instead of leaving them by the door. Something about tracking mud and snow inside and the squeakiness waking up the kids. At this point, though, Ymir was certain she would wake them and for once the whole "dressing as Santa" thing would come in handy.

It was a backup. Historia didn't want them getting caught putting presents under the tree or stuffing stockings and having to explain that mess. Five, four, and one were still too young to learn that the mythical fat man that broke in every year to leave gifts was in fact not real. So, if one of them, more likely Christa, chose to get up and try to sneak a peak, they'd see "Santa" and that would cover both of their asses.

On the other hand, had they not gone along with Eren when he dropped by around when Runa was two and talked about Santa in the first place, they could have just been honest and not said anything.

Ymir clamped her mouth shut, closing her eyes and breathing harshly through her nose for all but thirty seconds before shaking it off and setting to work. Historia couldn't help, for Christmas illusion sake or some shit, and to serve as a "let's go back to bed" if one of the kids was caught or had managed to make it to the living room. Shame, Ymir mused, as she struggled placing down the packages lightly.

Not successfully at all, really. A loud _**THUMP!**_ sounded as the freckled shifter stared down at the mass of items she had been carrying and openly cursed. A couple of beats passed before Ymir resumed original work of just grabbing presents from their original hiding place in the hallway closet - oh, she couldn't wait to get all the crap that was now in their room out - and staring once more at the giant mess before her. All she had to do was set them to look somewhat neat and she could get out of this stupid thing.

It didn't surprise Ymir when she heard familiar footsteps headed towards her and didn't bother to turn her head as they stopped in the doorway to the living room. She could practically feel the stare on her and sighed.

"Runa could sleep through a titan's roar and Amir always stays knocked out if he hasn't napped during the day."

"At this rate, I don't know if you're trying to wake them up or not." Historia stood, arms crossed slightly, dressed in a nightgown and robe loosely draped around her figure. "You forget sometimes how much Christa is like you." Ymir turned at this, opening her mouth to reiterate herself, only to stop at not only the way the blonde looked at her but to save herself from an argument.

A grin made its way onto the older of the two's face. "Stubbornness is your trait, dear. Not mine." Historia quirked an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, darling."

The mother glanced behind her, checking the hallways as Ymir went about her original business. No sign of the first two and no sound of any crying to be heard. It seemed they were pulling off another year just fine, regardless of how noisy Ymir could be, dealing with the dark and as many gifts as she had to. Amir would be easy, not remembering a thing, but if he cried, it would definitely wake up Christa, their second-oldest and most mischievous of the three. Maybe even Runa could be woken up. Amir certainly was loud when he wanted to be. It made Ymir seriously wonder where he had gotten his lungs from.

Presents were set and looked presentable enough. Not that it mattered, in the end, as she assumed it would be chaos in the morning. The girls would tear straight into the parents and not admire any fancy way presents were put out just that they were presents and theirs and they could get right to it. Ymir stood up, stroking her fake beard before nodding her head and stuffing the five stockings up wise ease. Oranges, apples, and some figs.

"Okay, I'm not dealing with this suit for another year. I'm headed to bed." Ymir turned, pressing a hand to the back of her neck and popping her back as she did. She stopped, noticing Historia was staring. "What?"

Historia said nothing at first, removing herself from leaning on the doorframe to make her way towards her santa-esque lover and run her hands up along her chest to her shoulders. Ymir made a face, debating whether to make a remark or not.

"We don't have to go to sleep just yet…"

"Are you shitting me?" It wasn't presented as a question but more a stunned thought that wound up being blurted aloud. "Do you have some sort of a Santa fetish or something?" Ymir furrowed her brows, only to be met with a scowl. Oh, how she loved pushing her wife's buttons.

"Well, I couldn't sleep before, and I'm certainly still? awake, now. But, if you're going to be that way, I can always—"

"—No! No," Ymir cleared her throat. She had sounded a little too eager and desperate, and tried to backtrack and hope the break in her voice just now could go unnoticed. "I, uh, just… you know they're going to wake up early, and… we…"

"Really? So articulate." Historia had definitely caught it.

"Shut it." Ymir felt her breath hitch, as she was drawn closer by a pair of fingers softly working on the nape of her neck.

How did she always manage to do this to her? It always felt like whenever they were intimate at all it was like experiencing it all brand new again and again. Just she had some cheat codes this time and knew what she was doing. Regardless, the petite woman always managed to wind her up so easily.

Historia grinned, only fading as she leaned in upwards, closer, her eyelids drooping.

"Ymir…?"

"Mm?"

"We're under the mistletoe." Their lips remained roughly an inch apart as Historia spoke, her voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah."

She didn't need to glance up to know that. Decorating the house, Ymir purposefully placed the decoration in the room where she gathered she'd get more use out of it. That, and there was some hanging in their bedroom…

It was mutual, not one leaning in more than the other or really initiating anything but rather they both did at the same time. It wasn't exactly lustful but it was not as innocent as a peck on the lips either. The moment they parted, Ymir rested her forehead against Historia's, only to close the distance between each other again. And again.

The stupid beard was bugging the shit out of Ymir, and just as she went to tear the damn thing off, she heard a small gasp. It was faint, but it was there, and it was _not_ Historia.

Her wife caught on just as quickly as she parted, both slowly turning in horror to catch not only Christa but her older sister Runa as well.

Oh boy.

"M-Mommy…?" Runa sniffled. "Wh-Why are you…? Where's Papa…?" looked rather confused and on the verge of tears. Christa, however, had a completely different reaction.

"Santa's our new papa?!" Ymir inwardly cursed as she cleared her throat and Historia fumbled to fix things.

"No, no, no!" Ymir cringed how close it sounded to the supposed laugh she had practiced and adjusted her hat. "Historia, uh, your mother and I are friends! I also know your papa, and—" Oh, Wall Sina, she did not want to have this conversation.

"Santa wanted a friendly kiss. Like how when Auntie Sasha comes over she kisses your cheeks!"

Not very buyable but it would have to do. Ymir quickly nodded. Christa's shoulders slumped as she stared at the ground and Runa gradually began to calm down. Good thing none of them ran to their bedroom or questioned further where Ymir actually was.

"I thought we were going to get more presents…" Little brat. Ymir felt her eye twitch. "… But I don't think I'd want another papa."

That seemed to be enough. Historia glanced at Ymir and the door a couple of times, signaling her to make an exit.

"Well! Santa best be off now! Lots more houses to hit and more boys and girls to give presents to!" Just as she made it to the door, Runa piped up once more.

"Why aren't you using the chimney?"

Fuck.

"Uh, the chimney in this house is too small! I can get to the roof, though. Merry Christmas!"

Thankfully, Historia managed to usher them to their bedrooms as Ymir made it look like she was headed outside, shutting the door when they were out of sight and quickly stripping down. Walking by in some slacks she had worn underneath and a shirt, she caught Runa and Christa looking outside, confused by no new prints in the snow or any sign of Santa now. Good thing Ymir hid that crap behind the couch… or, good enough unless they inspected such tomorrow. They probably wouldn't. They were still rather young.

As Ymir strolled into the bedroom, her face turned bright red as her wife lay across the bed, smirking.

"So, where were we?"

Merry Christmas, indeed.


End file.
